100 Books Like Alice's Adventures In Wonderland

I have a brother who is fifteen years my junior. When he was small, I often read him stories. One of our shared favourites, read over and over, was Sendak’s Wild Things. It’s a masterpiece.

He usually wrote the text, as well as making the wonderful pictures, and the text is short, simple, rhythmic, and beautiful. Sendak was a poet as well as an artist.

Think about it: a child of five and a young woman of twenty, reading the same book, poring over the illustrations together, and both having a whale of a time.

If you know a child of picture-book age who doesn’t own Sendak’s Where the Wild Things Are—buy it for them!

One of my all-time favourite books and one of the greatest narratives about the power of the imagination.

Picture books are the best teachers of ideas because they delight the eye and because the lessons they offer never feel didactic. The opening chapter of this book offers one of the most unforgettable lessons about how to see that dimension of the visible world that is not given to sight. 

This beloved classic teaches that love isn’t always tidy—it can be joyful, painful, generous, and oftentimes involve giving up something of yourself. Silverstein’s approach is simple: clarity and warmth without clutter.

I love this book for helping kids see that it’s okay to feel mixed emotions in relationships—that giving, receiving, and sometimes letting go are all part of caring. It models graceful empathy and shows children that feeling sad or giving more does not mean loving less. It also teaches the power of unconditional love and teaches the joy of giving. Trees are magical teachers!

This book struck a visual chord and changed the way I looked at picture books. As most of my favorites were in full or limited color, Jumanji’s black and white illustrations had extreme perspective and were visually exciting.

This book inspired me to push both my illustration and text for picture books toward a less juvenile or simple presentation. The illustrations in Jumanji are a departure from the ordinary in both subject and artistic approach. It urged me to look harder at the extraordinary in the ordinary.

As a teen, I'd visit my aunt, in her flat above a laundrette. The flat had a small attic room with a little window and a few old boxes of junk. My cousins and sister and I would play up there, or sit up there telling ghost stories, because it was one of those unclaimed spaces, overlooked by adults, that children colonise. A liminal space almost, where adult rules and laws don't quite apply and therefore magic can happen. One day I was snooping up there and found a beautiful copy of  Friedrich De La Motte's Undine, illustrated by Arthur Rackham. It was so stunningly beautiful, it felt like a book that had been plucked out of some fairytale land. I lost myself in the illustrations or weeks before I even read the words. And when I did my heart broke for Undine, who loved so hard, but left… show more.

A fascinating in-depth insight into the personality, career, and work of Rackham, who I view as the king of the golden age of illustration. His fine draughtsmanship and ability to create fantastical worlds and characters that range from the grotesque to the beautiful inspired me from an early age. The pages are packed with artwork done in his trademark pen and ink and watercolour. 

There are more accurate translations and better selections, but I love this collection for two reasons. First, Stephens was a Dublin-born, Irish-speaking novelist, poet, and eyewitness to the Easter Rising of 1916. His stories of ancient heroes and Otherworldly folk salute a proudly Celtic past. Stephens was part of the nationalist literary revival that harnessed Irish myths to an independent future. A friend to politicians and intellectuals, he claimed (untruthfully) to have the same birthday as his friend James Joyce. Stephens cleaned up the old stories for tender ears, but his early 20th-century language casts an antiquarian sheen on his fairytales. 

So do the enchanting illustrations by Arthur Rackham, one of the most skillful depicters of fairies (second only to Harry Clarke)—my second reason for loving this book. 

I love Andersen because his stories almost out-Kafka Kafka.

His animal characters are not exactly philosophers, but they observe, they dread, they dream. Animals—like humans—rarely challenge the natural order of things, but they must deal with the world as it actually is.

One Danish critic said that Andersen wrote more self-portraits than Rembrandt ever painted. Andersen’s great contribution to literature is recognizing how little is needed to produce a story and how little a great story really needs to say. 

One story tells of a chance meeting and spurned friendship between two toys in a drawer. Andersen seems capable of turning anything into a story.

This annotated hardback edition by a folklore scholar is one of the most beautiful-looking books I own.

A pregnant noblewoman fleeing a less than happy happily-ever-after finds her way to Castle Waiting, an overgrown castle that’s become a haven for forgotten figures from fairy tales, folklore, and myth. Much of this unbelievably absorbing comic is spent simply exploring the castle and following the residents in their day-to-day lives. And what better way is there to spend one’s time? Linda Medley’s immersive artwork, with its flavor of old-fashioned woodcuts and classical book illustrations, makes Castle Waiting look like the perfect place to rest between adventures, or maybe stay and become one of the long-term residents.

Perkins, like Mitra and Berger, is on my list of top educational gurus. All his books are worth reading, but Future Wise is one of the latest and best. It takes a long careful look at the contents of the conventional school curriculum, compares it with the real-world challenges that today’s kids will meet, and finds it seriously lacking as a preparation for real life. He goes on to explore the wealth of current knowledge that isn’t in the curriculum but ought to be, and demonstrates the kind of careful, creative thinking about education that ought to be happening but rarely is – certainly not by most academics and politicians. David is a Harvard professor, and is, as you would expect, deeply thoughtful and fair-minded, but he writes with a down-to-earth elegance and charm that makes his penetrating questioning all the more convincing.